FIC: Risen (Chapter 3/?)
Title: Risen: Chapter Three. (3/?)
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Pairing: Jared/Shannon.
Prompt: Table 2; # 22 - Taste. (100_situations)
Word Count: 5,703.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: near death, vampirism, slight mind control, incest, non-consensual sex, explicitness, light violence.
Overall Summary: In the words of Supernatural -- what's dead should stay dead. But what happens when it doesn't? Is it the same individual, or an entirely different incarnation of them?
Previous Parts: Chapter One. Chapter Two.
Author's Notes: After a frustrating drought this chapter came to me in a rush and I'm pleasantly surprised. Hopefully we won't have to wait as long for the muse to deliver the next chapter to me. *knocks wood*
Lips met his again but the kiss was brief, tongue darting between his lips to graze his own and then returning to its own mouth. His lower lip was tugged, at first lightly between lips, and then teeth were felt. Twin pinpricks of sharpness sent a sensation of shock and pain through his whole body and Shannon jerked, hitting the back of his head against the wall. His eyes found lips and the long canines could be seen clearly, this time the tips tainted with red. His blood.
He would have raised a hand to touch his lip but both were still held to the bare chest. A chill was creeping into his fingers, up his arms, as surely as the warmth that he felt every time those lips were pressed to his. The blood started to drip onto his chin and he licked his lip, tasting his own vaguely metallic essence. It was a taste that would have sparked warning bells but his eyes were pinned by the blues just inches from his and he couldn't seem to think anything. All he could do was feel, sense, smell; all he could do was be aware of him.
A smile curved those pale lips before they leaned in, lips brushing along his jaw line. The sweet smell increased tenfold and he found himself taking a deep breath, shivering when breath hit the side of his neck. Rough, dirty hair brushed his cheek and jaw and he was tilting his head to the side before he was aware of doing so.
The hands left his own, both going to his shoulders, and as they drew closer his arms bent without moving his hands to allow them closer. Wetness ran in a cool line from the base of his neck to the back of his jaw, the sensation making his eyes flutter shut, breathing starting to pick up. The blood slowly dripping from his lower lip was forgotten, not even felt as it ran down his chin, fell onto their shoulder and stained the dress shirt. Lips followed the same path, going up and then down, but pausing before reaching where neck and shoulder met.
Time seemed to stretch, nothing moving, nothing making a sound. His hands were going numb but still didn't move, more aware of their strong presence than how cold their body was. Then slim fingers suddenly clutched his shoulders and there wasn't time for so much as a breath before sharpness and the feel of penetration cut through everything else.
Shannon's mouth opened but he found himself unable to make a sound, almost unable to breathe. There was enough sensation left for his hands to curl, blunt nails scratching at the stone-slick skin beneath his hands but remaining there as if held by some invisible force. He could feel the lips pressed firmly against his neck, the fleeting sensation of a tongue against skin and something else. But more prominent was the feel of something embedded in the muscle of his neck, like when one went to the doctor's for a shot and could feel the needle sliding past skin and through muscle. There was no following sensation of injection, but rather, suction and withdraw, and his body involuntarily shuddered.
Colors and sounds swam before his eyes, visions of things he had never seen before, couldn't make sense of. Pain was everywhere at once, prickling through his veins and pulsing through his muscles, stealing his breath away. Fear and ambivalence fought to control him, yet somehow the fear was losing.
He wanted to open his eyes but his eyelids felt too heavy, his whole body felt too heavy to do anything but remain how he was. A beat began to echo in his ears, steady but slowing, and it took far too long for his brain to make the connection it was his heartbeat. Sensation began to leave him, consciousness began to leave him. His jaw went slack and when his tongue slid across his barely bleeding lip the blood was only registered as sticky wetness, unable to breathe though his mouth was open.
Everything snapped back into sharp relief when he hit the bed, the mattress feeling as hard as the floor against his limp body. The impact forced lungs and heart back to life and Shannon coughed, vision swimming as he took in gulps of air. His body slid a few inches before the numbness left his hands and he clutched at the bed sheets, keeping himself from sliding off the bed onto the floor. It was harder to try to get his legs to work, feet fumbling for purchase, but then he was grabbed by the waist of his jeans and hauled back onto the bed, moved far enough the toes of his sneakers barely touched the carpet.
"Somehow you taste like I'd always imagined you would... if I imagined what your blood would taste like."
That voice that both was and wasn't Jared's caressed his ears, seemed to caress his body, and he shivered, licking his lips. His nose crinkled slightly at the taste of his own blood, but then he was making a startled noise when his shirt was pushed up in the back and a tongue ran along his spine. "You even taste strong, brother. But I'm through tasting for now. Now I want to feel."
His thoughts were spinning now that he seemed to again be able to think. What was going on, what just happened, wasn't Jared dead, how could he be alive, was that really his body against his... wait, what?
Shannon blinked, missing the feel of his belt and jeans being undone and coming back to himself with the sensation of denim rubbing against his thighs and cold air sliding across his bare ass. The hands that had been cold but were almost warm now pushed his thighs apart as far as the clothing tangled around his legs would allow and he squirmed, warning signs finally able to go off in his head. "J-Jared... what are you --?"
"You're so warm, brother. So alive. I want to feel alive again."
Lukewarm skin brushed against the backs of his thighs as the bed moved and he felt his legs straddled. Hands pushed his shirt further up and he felt sharp teeth drag across his skin, making him arch. A low chuckle seemed to echo in the room, and then he was crying out in surprise when something pressed against and then inside of him.
He didn't have enough strength to buck but he could squirm, hands clenching and unclenching, feet almost frantically trying to gain purchase on the carpet. There was the sound of a tongue clicking against teeth and the other hand pressed firmly to his lower back, holding him down as another finger joined the one already inside him. "Jare..." His voice was broken and uncertain, almost afraid as his eyes squeezed shut. This couldn't be his brother, couldn't be real. But he could feel the drying blood on his lip; feel how his shirt stuck to his shoulder where blood had dripped from his neck.
The fingers were withdrawn and he let out a quiet sigh, body starting to relax almost against his will as the hand at his back began to rub in slow circles. It felt like only moments before the fingers were pressing against him again, but this time they felt slick and entered him more easily. The movements were in no means gentle, quick more than anything, and Shannon pressed his face to the covers to try and silence any noises that came out. He felt lightheaded, shock having as much to do with it as blood loss, and his mind tried to distract him by focusing on the sharp teeth he had seen in his brother's mouth, the pain at his neck.
Lips against his wounded neck pulled him from his thoughts and his breath caught at the silky tone that stroked his ears. "Mm, you smell afraid. Do you really think your little brother would ever hurt you?" Thumbs firmly dug into the base of his spine, making his back arch and his hips raise, and his teeth seized his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed again when he felt what could only be his brother's cock start to push inside him. Knees shifted, trying to push his legs further apart, and a whimper couldn't be held back at the pain that shot through his body. But the pain wasn't the worst part.
One hand came up, stroking his hair as soothing words were mumbled in his ear, not stopping when their hips began to move. The pace was slow but firm, drawing back only to thrust back in deeply. At one point the angle was altered and his eyes went wide when he felt something brushed that instantly changed the pain to pleasure, body shuddering almost violently. A gleeful laugh he knew came from above him and a kiss was pressed to the top of his head as the pace picked up, that spot being hit off and on.
Shannon felt like the rug had been yanked out from under him; he didn't know what was real and what wasn't, wasn't sure if he wanted to at this point. When he felt his cock twitch against the bed, part of him not knowing how he had enough blood to become aroused let alone why, it was the last straw. With a broken noise he gave in, hands holding tightly to the bed sheets as he closed his eyes and just tried to focus on breathing, his body moved only by the smaller one above it.
Finally the hands clutched tightly to his waist, surely tight enough to leave bruises, and one last thrust came before warmth filled him. He didn't know how long they remained like that but he let out a harsh breath when they pulled out, the intensity of the feeling of loss catching him off guard. Those hands again took his waist to flip him over and he grunted, eyes fluttering before managing to open. Blue eyes that were now dark like the night sky found his and held them as nimble fingers wrapped around his cock. He was helpless to look away, to stop his hips from rising into their strokes, and he whimpered his brother's name when release came.
Exhaustion tugged at him and he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open enough to watch Jared lick his fingers clean, the action reminding him of a cat cleaning its paw. A shadow fell over him as they leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, then chastely kissed his lips, tongue lingering a few moments to take what few drops of blood were on his lips.
"Rest, big brother. You need to regain your strength."
Hands stroked his biceps, wandered down his chest, and drew a whimper of almost protest when they brushed his limp cock. Then the weight left the bed and the pale vision of his brother left his line of sight. Shannon tried to lift his head but couldn't, only able to listen to the sound of the bedroom door being shut.
He couldn't begin to comprehend what had just happened, in part because at the forefront of everything was the lingering apparent fact that Jared was indeed alive. It seemed impossible but laying there on the bed, so exhausted it hurt just to breathe, it didn't seem so impossible. Birdsong came to him dimly, and he was able to tilt his head just enough to notice the sky lightening outside the bedroom window. Jared had to leave because the sun was rising. The thought came unbidden yet made sense in the jumble that was his current state of mind.
As he closed his eyes he could still see the blues that were his brother's, feel them penetrating his soul, and there were tears on his face as he drifted into unconsciousness.
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Pairing: Jared/Shannon.
Prompt: Table 2; # 22 - Taste. (100_situations)
Word Count: 5,703.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: near death, vampirism, slight mind control, incest, non-consensual sex, explicitness, light violence.
Overall Summary: In the words of Supernatural -- what's dead should stay dead. But what happens when it doesn't? Is it the same individual, or an entirely different incarnation of them?
Previous Parts: Chapter One. Chapter Two.
Author's Notes: After a frustrating drought this chapter came to me in a rush and I'm pleasantly surprised. Hopefully we won't have to wait as long for the muse to deliver the next chapter to me. *knocks wood*
Lips met his again but the kiss was brief, tongue darting between his lips to graze his own and then returning to its own mouth. His lower lip was tugged, at first lightly between lips, and then teeth were felt. Twin pinpricks of sharpness sent a sensation of shock and pain through his whole body and Shannon jerked, hitting the back of his head against the wall. His eyes found lips and the long canines could be seen clearly, this time the tips tainted with red. His blood.
He would have raised a hand to touch his lip but both were still held to the bare chest. A chill was creeping into his fingers, up his arms, as surely as the warmth that he felt every time those lips were pressed to his. The blood started to drip onto his chin and he licked his lip, tasting his own vaguely metallic essence. It was a taste that would have sparked warning bells but his eyes were pinned by the blues just inches from his and he couldn't seem to think anything. All he could do was feel, sense, smell; all he could do was be aware of him.
A smile curved those pale lips before they leaned in, lips brushing along his jaw line. The sweet smell increased tenfold and he found himself taking a deep breath, shivering when breath hit the side of his neck. Rough, dirty hair brushed his cheek and jaw and he was tilting his head to the side before he was aware of doing so.
The hands left his own, both going to his shoulders, and as they drew closer his arms bent without moving his hands to allow them closer. Wetness ran in a cool line from the base of his neck to the back of his jaw, the sensation making his eyes flutter shut, breathing starting to pick up. The blood slowly dripping from his lower lip was forgotten, not even felt as it ran down his chin, fell onto their shoulder and stained the dress shirt. Lips followed the same path, going up and then down, but pausing before reaching where neck and shoulder met.
Time seemed to stretch, nothing moving, nothing making a sound. His hands were going numb but still didn't move, more aware of their strong presence than how cold their body was. Then slim fingers suddenly clutched his shoulders and there wasn't time for so much as a breath before sharpness and the feel of penetration cut through everything else.
Shannon's mouth opened but he found himself unable to make a sound, almost unable to breathe. There was enough sensation left for his hands to curl, blunt nails scratching at the stone-slick skin beneath his hands but remaining there as if held by some invisible force. He could feel the lips pressed firmly against his neck, the fleeting sensation of a tongue against skin and something else. But more prominent was the feel of something embedded in the muscle of his neck, like when one went to the doctor's for a shot and could feel the needle sliding past skin and through muscle. There was no following sensation of injection, but rather, suction and withdraw, and his body involuntarily shuddered.
Colors and sounds swam before his eyes, visions of things he had never seen before, couldn't make sense of. Pain was everywhere at once, prickling through his veins and pulsing through his muscles, stealing his breath away. Fear and ambivalence fought to control him, yet somehow the fear was losing.
He wanted to open his eyes but his eyelids felt too heavy, his whole body felt too heavy to do anything but remain how he was. A beat began to echo in his ears, steady but slowing, and it took far too long for his brain to make the connection it was his heartbeat. Sensation began to leave him, consciousness began to leave him. His jaw went slack and when his tongue slid across his barely bleeding lip the blood was only registered as sticky wetness, unable to breathe though his mouth was open.
Everything snapped back into sharp relief when he hit the bed, the mattress feeling as hard as the floor against his limp body. The impact forced lungs and heart back to life and Shannon coughed, vision swimming as he took in gulps of air. His body slid a few inches before the numbness left his hands and he clutched at the bed sheets, keeping himself from sliding off the bed onto the floor. It was harder to try to get his legs to work, feet fumbling for purchase, but then he was grabbed by the waist of his jeans and hauled back onto the bed, moved far enough the toes of his sneakers barely touched the carpet.
"Somehow you taste like I'd always imagined you would... if I imagined what your blood would taste like."
That voice that both was and wasn't Jared's caressed his ears, seemed to caress his body, and he shivered, licking his lips. His nose crinkled slightly at the taste of his own blood, but then he was making a startled noise when his shirt was pushed up in the back and a tongue ran along his spine. "You even taste strong, brother. But I'm through tasting for now. Now I want to feel."
His thoughts were spinning now that he seemed to again be able to think. What was going on, what just happened, wasn't Jared dead, how could he be alive, was that really his body against his... wait, what?
Shannon blinked, missing the feel of his belt and jeans being undone and coming back to himself with the sensation of denim rubbing against his thighs and cold air sliding across his bare ass. The hands that had been cold but were almost warm now pushed his thighs apart as far as the clothing tangled around his legs would allow and he squirmed, warning signs finally able to go off in his head. "J-Jared... what are you --?"
"You're so warm, brother. So alive. I want to feel alive again."
Lukewarm skin brushed against the backs of his thighs as the bed moved and he felt his legs straddled. Hands pushed his shirt further up and he felt sharp teeth drag across his skin, making him arch. A low chuckle seemed to echo in the room, and then he was crying out in surprise when something pressed against and then inside of him.
He didn't have enough strength to buck but he could squirm, hands clenching and unclenching, feet almost frantically trying to gain purchase on the carpet. There was the sound of a tongue clicking against teeth and the other hand pressed firmly to his lower back, holding him down as another finger joined the one already inside him. "Jare..." His voice was broken and uncertain, almost afraid as his eyes squeezed shut. This couldn't be his brother, couldn't be real. But he could feel the drying blood on his lip; feel how his shirt stuck to his shoulder where blood had dripped from his neck.
The fingers were withdrawn and he let out a quiet sigh, body starting to relax almost against his will as the hand at his back began to rub in slow circles. It felt like only moments before the fingers were pressing against him again, but this time they felt slick and entered him more easily. The movements were in no means gentle, quick more than anything, and Shannon pressed his face to the covers to try and silence any noises that came out. He felt lightheaded, shock having as much to do with it as blood loss, and his mind tried to distract him by focusing on the sharp teeth he had seen in his brother's mouth, the pain at his neck.
Lips against his wounded neck pulled him from his thoughts and his breath caught at the silky tone that stroked his ears. "Mm, you smell afraid. Do you really think your little brother would ever hurt you?" Thumbs firmly dug into the base of his spine, making his back arch and his hips raise, and his teeth seized his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed again when he felt what could only be his brother's cock start to push inside him. Knees shifted, trying to push his legs further apart, and a whimper couldn't be held back at the pain that shot through his body. But the pain wasn't the worst part.
One hand came up, stroking his hair as soothing words were mumbled in his ear, not stopping when their hips began to move. The pace was slow but firm, drawing back only to thrust back in deeply. At one point the angle was altered and his eyes went wide when he felt something brushed that instantly changed the pain to pleasure, body shuddering almost violently. A gleeful laugh he knew came from above him and a kiss was pressed to the top of his head as the pace picked up, that spot being hit off and on.
Shannon felt like the rug had been yanked out from under him; he didn't know what was real and what wasn't, wasn't sure if he wanted to at this point. When he felt his cock twitch against the bed, part of him not knowing how he had enough blood to become aroused let alone why, it was the last straw. With a broken noise he gave in, hands holding tightly to the bed sheets as he closed his eyes and just tried to focus on breathing, his body moved only by the smaller one above it.
Finally the hands clutched tightly to his waist, surely tight enough to leave bruises, and one last thrust came before warmth filled him. He didn't know how long they remained like that but he let out a harsh breath when they pulled out, the intensity of the feeling of loss catching him off guard. Those hands again took his waist to flip him over and he grunted, eyes fluttering before managing to open. Blue eyes that were now dark like the night sky found his and held them as nimble fingers wrapped around his cock. He was helpless to look away, to stop his hips from rising into their strokes, and he whimpered his brother's name when release came.
Exhaustion tugged at him and he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open enough to watch Jared lick his fingers clean, the action reminding him of a cat cleaning its paw. A shadow fell over him as they leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, then chastely kissed his lips, tongue lingering a few moments to take what few drops of blood were on his lips.
"Rest, big brother. You need to regain your strength."
Hands stroked his biceps, wandered down his chest, and drew a whimper of almost protest when they brushed his limp cock. Then the weight left the bed and the pale vision of his brother left his line of sight. Shannon tried to lift his head but couldn't, only able to listen to the sound of the bedroom door being shut.
He couldn't begin to comprehend what had just happened, in part because at the forefront of everything was the lingering apparent fact that Jared was indeed alive. It seemed impossible but laying there on the bed, so exhausted it hurt just to breathe, it didn't seem so impossible. Birdsong came to him dimly, and he was able to tilt his head just enough to notice the sky lightening outside the bedroom window. Jared had to leave because the sun was rising. The thought came unbidden yet made sense in the jumble that was his current state of mind.
As he closed his eyes he could still see the blues that were his brother's, feel them penetrating his soul, and there were tears on his face as he drifted into unconsciousness.